


The Morning After

by Grimme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Destiel - Freeform, Fluff and Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-30
Updated: 2013-01-30
Packaged: 2017-11-27 13:19:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/662446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimme/pseuds/Grimme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel doesn't understand awkward despite the fact that he's the definition of the word itself. Dean Winchester isn't much of a help, especially after a night with an Angel of the Lord.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> Hello there! Thank you for bothering to open up this fic to read - it's my first Destiel fic and just a simple one shot that I wrote one listening to Collide by Howie Day. I highly recommend you to listen to it while reading this. 
> 
> Beta-ed by Sickseaweed, a close friend of mine who deserves all the awards for this fic being able to see the light of day.
> 
> Anyway, bad summary is bad, please enjoy, thank you!
> 
> Link to Collide Youtube vid:  
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?gl=SG&hl=en-GB&v=ca9ub9rpNK4

Dean doesn’t say a word that morning. He gets up and brushes his teeth, grabs a bottle of beer out of the barely working refrigerator and swallows half of it in a single, long chug. He doesn’t turn his head when Castiel, the almighty angel of the Lord - who’s more than capable of snapping his neck in an instant - comes out of the room in a ruffled mess, hair sticking in all possible directions and eyes still blurred with sleep.

“Dean.” He says, but the human doesn’t turn to look because he doesn’t know what he’ll say; doesn’t know what he’ll do.

He’s been with women, far too many to be counted, but this is different. This is Castiel. This is the idiot who trusts him, the only non-mortal entity to put his faith in Dean, the one who went against his siblings and rebelled against all of heaven because of him, the same angel who fell from grace for him.

He’s Castiel, the angel of Thursday and guardian of Dean Winchester - and even if he will never admit it - the most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“Dean.” The raven tries again, and somehow, even though angels weren’t made to feel, Castiel could feel his heart slowly sinking to the pit of his stomach … in a figurative, but somehow physical way.

“Come ‘ere.” 

He blinks. Did he just—

“Or are you gonna stay there and practice ballet for the entire day?”

Castiel doesn’t think twice about dropping his weight onto the couch.

“… You’re embarrassed.” 

“No.”

“Then why the blanket?”

“I couldn’t see any of my clothes when I woke up. I figured that it was customary to wear something after seeing you clothed in the living room so I took the nearest available article of clothing. Unfortunately, I couldn’t figure out how to wear it probably. Is this corre—“

“Never mind.” Dean says with a roll of his eyes as he turns the television on. After a few minutes of watching some chick flick that none of them have their attention on, Castiel finally speaks up.

“I’m sorry if I—“

“You did nothin’ wrong. Don’t apologise.”

“Bu—“

“I don’t do relationships, okay? Just don’t.”

Castiel tilts his head the way he always does when he’s curious about something, when he wants to know what exactly is going on.

“But you have Sam. The two of you share a relationship. We are friends, too. Aren’t we?”

“It’s different. It’s not …” Dean gestures with his hands. Castiel decides that he shouldn’t do that because it looks foolish and doesn’t help much with the explanation.

“It’s not the same.” He finally blubbers out after much difficulty. The angel looks away, because he doesn’t understand and he thinks that maybe he doesn’t want to   
understand.

Then he feels a hand slip into his.

“Don’t.”

Castiel smiles, because he knows that this is the only way Dean can communicate. Dean is fierce, Dean is powerful, Dean is what stopped the apocalypse from happening and he’s the best hunter out there but then again, he also knows that Dean’s about as emotionally developed as he is – or at least, that’s what he’s been told – and it’s strange and unfamiliar, but oh so comforting at the same time to feel human warmth even though he’s immortal and should find this completely unsettling.

“Alright, Dean.” He says simply, because that’s the only thing he knows that will calm the blond down right now.

“… Beer?” He suggests after a few quiet minutes, the comment somehow forming an irritated look on Castiel’s face, causing Dean to break out in laughter – something that Castiel thought was indescribably beautiful.

He smiles as well, this angel who can bring storms and cure the most potent illnesses, he smiles because Dean Winchester is laughing at him, the crow feet at his eyes all the more gorgeous and sincere.

Dean takes a brief second to survey how easy that grin appears on Castiel’s face and instantly decides that he’ll be holding the angel’s hand a lot more from now on.


End file.
